#niko's notes

[patchworkgargoyle]

with a bang 🎊

A gift for the lovely and talented Joey (@matchingbatbites) as part of our STuad server holiday gift exchange! I hope you enjoy, and have a lovely new year <3

Based on the prompts: impact play, secret relationship, and "don't be mean to me." Fingers crossed I did them justice! Rated: E || 4.7k words || CW: impact play, unprotected sex Full tag list on ao3!

Eddie was going to combust. He was also debating whether he should plot Robin’s untimely demise or send her a Thank You bouquet. Dressing up for their New Years party had been her idea, after all, and once she got Nancy on her side there was no swaying either of them, no matter how much the rest of them had hemmed and hawed. Eddie didn’t see a point to it; he’d thought they were just calling it a New Years party as an excuse to hang out without the rugrats for once, but then Robin wanted to make it a party party. With champagne and shit. And fancy clothes.

Once Argyle had confirmed he could wear whatever colours he wanted, so long as the clothes were dressy, Eddie knew his fate was sealed. He’d been the biggest—and loudest—nay-sayer, but with Jonathan, Steve, and Vickie being more or less neutral, his hard-fought battle against a dress code had been lost.

And jesus christ, is he ever glad he lost.

He got to Steve’s place last after he hit up the liquor store, the three bottles of the cheapest sparkling wine in his arms bought with their pooled funds. They nearly smashed on the Harrington stoop when Steve opened the front door he’d obnoxiously kicked looking like… well.

Steve owned a suit, apparently. A nice one. God, it must be tailored or some shit with how well it fit. His shoulders were so broad in the suit jacket, the black tie looking at home around Steve’s throat under the pressed white collar. Black dress pants made his legs long. Even that signature swoop in his hair was perfectly coiffed. Eddie’s eyes devoured the sight before him, and the first and foremost thought in his mind was that he wanted to get Steve out of that suit as soon as goddamn possible. Especially when Steve began to smirk at him knowingly.

His second thought was that he was so screwed.

They’d been hooking up for a bit now, was the thing. It was new. They hadn’t told anyone yet because they wanted to keep it to themselves, figure it out a little, have fun before the kids learned about it and got nosy. When they’d started talking about going on dates, though—and if his past self knew he’d be planning a date with Steve Harrington he’d blow a gasket—they’d agreed to say something once New Years was over. But how the hell was Eddie going to keep his mouth shut, not to mention his hands to himself, when Steve looked like that!?

“You’re wearing that?” he hissed. “This is cruel and unusual, Steve. This is torture. Why are you dressed like that when I can’t do anything about it!”

Shrugging, Steve whispered, “It’s my only suit, it’s all I had to wear.”

Eddie felt he was being too nonchalant about this and narrowed his eyes. He opened his mouth to complain more but then he heard Nancy’s voice from inside. “What are you guys doing? It’s cold out!” she said with a laugh, and Steve cocked an eyebrow and stepped aside so Eddie could come in.

Steve took the bottles so Eddie could get out of his coat, and he did notice, with no small amount of satisfaction, that Steve’s eyes were on him too. Eddie might not have a tailored suit, but his black dress shirt and slacks fit him pretty damn well, he figured, and the way Steve was looking at him made it clear he thought the same. Eddie stuck his tongue out between his teeth and wiggled his eyebrows at Steve suggestively and earned a dark, desirous look from him that promised later and sent a thrill down Eddie’s spine.

But later was getting harder and harder to wait for. As their little party went on, Steve found more ways to drive Eddie up the fucking wall, when he’d rather be pushed into the wall, secrecy be damned.

It was all the little touches, the fleeting looks. Steve developed a habit of tugging on Eddie’s belt loops when no one was looking, or the sleeve of his shirt; something that would grab Eddie’s attention and pull him just a smidge closer. When they’d ended up sitting next to each other on the couch Steve gradually shifted into Eddie’s space and their thighs kept touching, and Eddie couldn’t stop thinking about how it felt to have his legs tangled with Steve’s in his bed. And then, when their eyes met, Eddie swore Steve would check him out. It was always quick, but he could practically feel it when Steve looked at his lips, or where his shirt collar was undone. Eddie went red every time.

Eventually Eddie decided to give as good as he got, though that may have also been fueled by the cheap wine. He’d watch Steve over the rim of his glass until Steve caught on and licked his lips when Steve’s eyes flicked downward, only glancing away after a few seconds of holding his gaze. Letting his arm drape casually over the back of the couch so he could brush his fingers down the nape of Steve’s neck was absolutely a risk, but it was worth it when Steve’s breath hitched and he stumbled over his words. He was talking to Jonathan, though, who was high as a kite and didn’t notice. Hopefully.

They kept upping the ante all night and Eddie was a stiff breeze away from getting hard from all the tension by the time midnight crept up on the group. Five minutes before the countdown, Nancy herded them all out to Steve’s backyard in a rush. The town stretched out in the distance, lights glittering in the dark winter night. An occasional screech and flash of colour from premature fireworks interrupted the anticipatory silence that hung over Hawkins. Vickie helped Robin uncork the last bottle of champagne, and the teens passed it around, refilling their glasses as they huddled close to fend off the cold.

“Did we really have to stand outside for this?” Steve grumbled. He stood between Eddie and Robin and kept bumping shoulders with both of them.

“Duh, we can’t see the fireworks from inside, dingus,” Robin said, even though she shivered the hardest out of all of them. Vickie was tucked into her side and had her arms wrapped around Robin’s waist to try to keep warm.

Steve crossed his arms and glared out across the snowy lawn. “We could’ve grabbed our coats at least.”

“I did mean to give us more time to get ready, but it’s too late now.” Nancy looked at her watch. “Two minutes until midnight.”

When Eddie shoved his free hand in his pocket and shivered extra hard, Steve leaned into him, and it took every bit of willpower to not give in to the urge to rest his head on Steve’s shoulder. Or kiss him. The idea of being openly affectionate with Steve made Eddie feel all fizzy inside in the best way. He was glad they were going to tell everyone after this. As fun as it had been, keeping this between themselves, he was getting tired of having to hide how he felt. He wanted their friends to know, wanted to touch and kiss his boyfrie—Steve without having to sneak around.

“Anyone got a wish they wanna make?” Argyle asked, and everyone else shot him confused looks.

“I don’t think people make wishes on New Years,” Jonathan said haltingly. “Do you mean resolutions?”

“Nah dude, I think wishes are better. Less pressure, y’know?”

Eddie tipped his head thoughtfully. “That’s a good point,” he said, and Argyle beamed at him.

“Yeah, that sounds like a nice idea.” Vickie agreed. “We should all think of a wish!”

“Just don’t say what it is or it won’t come true. Told my sister that I wished on a dandelion that my skateboard would never break but the next day it snapped like–” Argyle mimed breaking something over his knee, complete with sound effects. “It was a total bummer, man.”

“Wasn’t that the one you cracked and duct taped over?” Jonathan asked, bloodshot eyes narrowed as he tried to remember.

“Yeah, but like, with the good tape.”

Nancy gave an amused, but pinched, smile when she said, “Half a minute.”

Steve shuffled and Eddie looked over at him. He was so unfairly handsome tonight, freckled cheeks and nose flushed from the chill, and though his hair wasn’t quite as perfect anymore it just made him look roguish. Eddie wanted to get his hands in it. He wanted to kiss Steve so much it hurt. Subtly, Eddie slipped his hand from his pocket and wiggled the tips of his fingers in-between Steve’s, and Steve looked down at his feet to hide his smile, giving Eddie’s fingers a brief squeeze.

His heart beat a rapid staccato in his chest and Eddie knew right then what he was going to wish for.

“Ten seconds!” Nancy announced, then counted down, and everyone joined in, grinning at each other excitedly. Five seconds, three, one, and–

A whole chorus of screeching, banging fireworks from the town almost drowned out their cheers of Happy New Year! A riot of colours burst across the sky, spilling over the untouched snow and lighting up their faces, and Eddie silently sent his wish up into the sky with them.

Steve didn’t look at anyone but him, his face soft with affection. And Eddie couldn’t take his eyes off Steve. The fireworks looked better reflected in his eyes anyway.

“Hey, can you help me grab something from inside?” Steve asked, and Eddie nodded frantically.

Robin snorted when Steve and Eddie scampered off, but Eddie paid her no mind. He was too busy following Steve through the house filled with the loud music they’d forgotten to turn off. When he realised they were heading upstairs, heat began to burn low in his belly and anticipation buzzed under his skin. He wasn’t sure if they were out of view yet, but he didn’t care, giving Steve’s ass a light smack and smirking when Steve shot a glare over his shoulder. How could he be expected to resist? It was right in front of him!

They hurried down the hallway to Steve’s room, and Eddie was barely through the doorway when Steve shut it and crowded him up against it to kiss him. Eddie groaned hungrily and parted his lips for Steve’s tongue, the kiss turning messy with their enthusiasm. He felt Steve yanking his shirt out of his slacks and flinched, gasping, when Steve’s cold fingers touched his scarred sides.

“Been driving me nuts all night, Eds,” Steve muttered against Eddie’s lips, his hands inching up Eddie’s shirt. “You look so good all dressed up, god. When you touched my neck I almost caved and pinned you to the couch.”

Eddie laughed. “I couldn’t help myself,” he purred.

“Yeah well, it was a dick move.” Steve reached Eddie’s chest and swiped his chilly thumb over Eddie’s hardened nipple before pinching and rolling it, making him whimper. “Kinda think I should get some payback for it.”

“Don’t be mean to me, Stevie,” Eddie said, but his tone was deliberately teasing even as he squirmed a bit under Steve’s hands. He loved pressing his luck with Steve, pushing his buttons and seeing what it got him.

Steve arched an eyebrow, then shoved his knee between Eddie’s thighs, pressing into Eddie’s rapidly hardening cock. His mouth fell open and he rocked into the pressure. But then Steve’s hands grabbed him by the hips and held him still, pinned to the door, and Eddie whined.

“You teased me all night, and you think I’ll make it easy for you?” Steve smirked before he leaned down to kiss Eddie’s collarbones, nipping at Eddie’s skin to make him twitch ineffectually in his grip. All the while, he kept lightly grinding his thigh against Eddie’s dick, barely enough movement to taunt him.

Eddie groaned. “You teased me too!”

Steve slapped Eddie’s thigh and the shock of it, more than the light sting of it, made Eddie bite his lip to muffle a moan. “You made it worse,” Steve whispered into his ear as he soothed the spot he’d slapped with a gentle touch. “So yeah, I’m gonna be a little mean.”

Teeth caught his earlobe and Eddie shuddered, unable to contain a triumphant grin. Holy shit, he was excited for this. He fucking loved it when this side of Steve came out to play.

Straightening up, Steve let go of Eddie’s hips to work at the knot in his tie. “Ride my thigh,” he said as the knot came free and he whipped the tie off, flinging it somewhere into the room. Eddie nodded and started rolling his hips. The relief at being able to move was almost as powerful as the surge of arousal he felt at the command. His slacks were tight over his cock but the friction was so delicious. Steve’s strong thigh kept Eddie’s legs apart enough that he had to brace himself on Steve’s shoulders. It gave him enough stability to really grind, and jesus christ, between all the flirting and teasing and touching all night, and this, Eddie could already feel his orgasm building. Shit.

And the way Steve looked wasn’t helping anything. A lock of hair had come free over his forehead, making him look more artfully dishevelled, and Steve had unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt, dark curls of hair peeking out. Eddie wanted to eat him, be eaten by him. He dug his fingers into Steve’s shoulders and pulled him into a demanding kiss, licking into his mouth and swallowing his low moan.

While they kissed, Steve made quick work of Eddie’s shirt, and as soon as it was gone Steve’s hands were on him again, greedy and grasping. One wide palm held the back of his head, tugging lightly at his hair, and the other guided Eddie’s hips faster. Heat blazed in his gut and Eddie’s desperate grinding was starting to lose its tempo.

“S-Steve, oh fuck, gonna come in my pants i-if I keep going,” Eddie rasped.

“You can keep going a little longer,” Steve replied, no, insisted.

“I can’t,” Eddie whined. Steve slapped his thigh again, harder this time, and Eddie’s whine went embarrassingly high and reedy.

“Might have to be a little mean if you can’t keep going. Do you want that, baby?”

Oh yes he fucking did. “Yes, yes, fuck, Steve, yes I do,” he babbled, and Steve clicked his tongue like he was disappointed. But all Eddie saw in his face was devoted hunger, hazel eyes intense with it, making something swoop in Eddie’s gut.

“Your choice,” Steve said casually. Then he slapped him again, on the same, still stinging spot, and Eddie threw his head back as he came soundlessly, making a mess of his boxers, immediately feeling warm and sticky as he gasped for air and clung to Steve.

Steve held him through it, made sure his head didn’t smash into the door, muttering, “So pretty when you come, Eddie. Couldn’t help it, could you? S’okay. You’ll make it up to me.”

“I will, I will Steve, whatever you want.”

“Good boy,” Steve said, low and confident. Eddie shivered at the words and his eager groan was silenced when Steve kissed him, taking him by the hand and leading him with teasing, bitey kisses to the bed.

Eddie’s knees hit the bed and he let himself fall, bouncing on the eyesore of a duvet and quickly scrambling to get his slacks off, cringing at the way his cum made his boxers stick to him. At least he had a spare pair here. Steve grabbed the lube from his nightstand and chucked it onto the bed, then stood between Eddie’s legs and stared, swallowing at the sight of Eddie sprawled out on his bed. Smirking, Eddie spread his legs further, tilting his chin back as he tossed his hair. Seeing Steve still fully clothed, in a suit no less, hard cock bulging in his dress pants while Eddie was bare fucking naked below him made Eddie feel electric. He wiggled a little just to ease the frisson skittering along his nerves.

“Like what you see?” he asked.

Reaching out, Steve trailed his big fingers along the sensitive skin of Eddie’s inner thigh reverently, goosebumps rising in his wake. “Always do.” 

How Steve managed to sound turned on and sincere, Eddie had no idea, but it made his heart do flips in his chest.

Steve started slowly undoing the buttons of his shirt as his eyes lingered over Eddie’s body. “Turn over for me,” he said, and Eddie obeyed quickly, getting on his knees and elbows. Stretching out across the blankets, he looked over his shoulder at Steve and wiggled his ass in the air.

“C’mon Stevie,” he urged, drawing out the syllables, “I wanna know what you’re planning in that pretty head of yours.”

“Jesus, you’re impatient.” Steve shook his head, but there was a fond smile tugging at his lips and he did speed up. Once undressed—and Eddie would never get over the sight of Steve naked, or the sheer size of his cock, jesus christ—he stepped closer to the bed and yanked Eddie in by his hips, making him yelp. “Maybe you should ask me politely,” he said.

“Pretty please, Stevie, with a cherry on t—aah!”

The slap to his asscheek rang out in the room, the sting radiating out all warm and tingly. Eddie made a short, whiny noise as his dick gave a valiant twitch. There was a click from behind him and Eddie jumped when he felt cold lube drip over his hole, then down his taint. Steve dragged his thumb through it, then rubbed soothingly over the ring of muscle.

“Count them for me.”

Eddie nodded and counted that first slap, then the next two, alternating sides each time. Steve kept massaging his hole, then pressing in gently when Eddie relaxed between each smack. By the fifth slap Eddie’s cheeks were prickling painfully, and his cock started to fill out again, hanging heavy between his legs and twitching almost painfully at every slap. He knew his pale skin must be so red.

Steve paused and brushed his free hand over Eddie’s heated, sore skin. “You doing okay, Eds?”

“Yep, oh yeah, so fucking okay,” he breathed, “green, golden, whatever. I’m so good.”

Laughing, Steve bent over and kissed the small of Eddie’ back. “Such a good boy for me, baby. Now keep counting.”

With each smack, Eddie felt his belly tighten further and further. He was so fucking aroused he’d began to writhe and rock back onto Steve’s thumb, then his fingers when he started stretching Eddie, prepping him. By the time they got to nine, Eddie was shaking, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.

“Oh god, Steve, please, I want you to fuck me already, please please please,” he begged.

“I dunno. You think you’ve made it up to me yet?”

Another slap, and Eddie sobbed out, “Ten! Yes, please Stevie, I’ve been good!”

Steve’s fingers pulled out of Eddie’s hole and he sobbed again, clenching around nothing. “You’re okay, Eds, you have been good, I’ve got you,” Steve reassured. There was a wet sound, and soon enough the blunt head of Steve’s slicked-up cock pressed against Eddie’s stretched hole. He rubbed his clean hand down along the curve of Eddie’s spine, the tender touch almost overwhelming in comparison to the hot pain in his cheeks. “Ready?” Steve asked.

“God yes.”

Eddie muffled his guttural moan in the covers as Steve pushed in, also groaning in relief. And he didn’t waste much time. Eddie was loose enough that Steve’s short, sharp thrusts brought them flush together with little effort, though Eddie still felt stretched out and so fucking full. They stayed like that for a moment, adjusting to the feeling together. The way Steve breathed, heavy and quick, told Eddie that he was getting control of himself. That Steve was close to coming just from slapping him around made him grin and squeeze around his cock like a tease.

“Eddie, that’s unfair,” Steve grunted and grabbed a small handful of ass in retaliation. Pain burned deliciously under his hand.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Eddie said only a tiny bit insincerely. He felt Steve laugh more than he heard it.

Then Steve started to move again. The slow drag of his cock made Eddie shudder, able to feel every vein before he plunged back in again. Groaning low in his throat, Steve said, “Fuck, Eddie, wish you could see yourself.” Both his hands grabbed at Eddie’s ass, and he jerked and whimpered at the pain. “So pretty and red.”

Eddie just whined wordlessly, and Steve’s thrusts sped up. Fists white-knuckled in the covers, he rocked back eagerly, desperate for the feeling rising like a tide about to crash over him. Steve’s cock felt so fucking good, but then Steve got a knee up on the mattress and he draped himself over Eddie’s back and the angle drove him right into Eddie’s prostate, over and over. Eddie couldn’t help the sweet, needy cries that tumbled out of his mouth as his pleasure mounted.

Fingers entwined with his. It was Steve’s favourite thing to do during sex and it’d quickly become Eddie’s too. One more point of connection, a soft gesture no matter how hard they were fucking each other, and it made Eddie melt every time. He squeezed Steve’s fingers, maybe a little too hard, but Steve just fucked him faster, the sound of skin slapping against sweaty skin mingling with their moaning.

“Steve, gonna come, soon, holy shit. T-touch me? Please, want you to touch me,” Eddie said.

“Me too, god, I’ve got you.”

Reaching down, Steve wrapped his hand around Eddie’s aching, dripping cock and jerked him in time with his thrusts. Eddie was fucking overwhelmed. Steve’s hand, Steve’s cock, he didn’t know which feeling to chase, couldn’t tell the difference as he sped towards the crest of his climax. Fresh tears sprang to his eyes, his legs shook, the only anchor he had was Steve’s hand in his and he clung to it as he moaned Steve’s name.

“I’m so close, wanna come with you,” Steve begged raggedly. “Come for me, Eddie, please baby.”

The urgency in his voice and the way Steve’s rhythm grew sloppy and rough pushed Eddie over the edge finally, gloriously. His orgasm crashed over him and he came with a choked cry, rutting into Steve’s grip as he spilled on the duvet. Steve’s forehead dropped onto Eddie’s back and with a few hard pumps of his hips he came too, warm and deep inside Eddie.

Eddie’s legs gave out and he collapsed on the bed, grunting when Steve came down with him. They both laughed breathlessly, and Steve rolled off him, lazily scooting up the bed and trying to pull Eddie along too. Though he felt like a limp noodle, Eddie gave in and fumbled his way up and into Steve’s sweaty arms. Head resting on his chest, Eddie could hear how Steve’s heartbeat steadily slowed to something calm, and could feel his own slow to match.

Music was still blasting downstairs, and fireworks were still going off here and there outside. One flashed close to Steve’s window, a shower of green and gold that lit up Steve’s gorgeous eyes.

“Happy New Year, Steve,” he whispered.

Smiling, Steve kissed Eddie sweet and slow, then said, “Happy New Year, Eddie.”

Eddie returned the smile, but it grew into something cheeky when he got an awful idea. He saw the suspicion grow across Steve’s face. “I guess we, uh… really started the year off with a bang,” he said, and Steve’s head fell back onto his pillow with a pained groan.

When they both woke up, Steve eventually managed to coax Eddie out of bed so they could get breakfast started for everyone. It didn’t take much coaxing when he reminded Eddie that he planned to make french toast just for him. Dressed in Steve’s borrowed pyjamas, Eddie blearily trudged downstairs with him.

Their friends must have found their ways to the various guest rooms, because the living room and kitchen were empty. It looked like half of the mess from last night had been tidied, and Eddie shook his head with a smile when he imagined Nancy trying to clean before being convinced to go to bed.

Eddie took up his usual spot, seated on the counter—despite the soreness from last night—and mostly out of the way while Steve got everything together. He looked so soft in the light and his old, worn Hawkins High Basketball shirt, his hair ravaged by sleep. Sighing, Eddie propped his chin in his hand as he watched him move around the kitchen.

Steve caught him staring and put his hands on his hips. “What?”

“You’re just sooo handsome,” Eddie cooed, “I’d eat you for breakfast instead.” He snapped his teeth and Steve snorted and rolled his eyes as he closed the distance between them.

“Probably healthier to eat french toast,” he said. Hands on the counter at either side of Eddie’s knees, Steve looked up at Eddie. “And Robin would kill you for killing me.”

Clicking his tongue, Eddie tilted his head in agreement. “Yep. Probably. She’d have to enact some sort of best friend revenge clause if I murdered you and I don’t think I want to incur the Wrath of Buckley.”

“I don’t recommend it. She’s clumsy but if she does manage to land a hit she can kinda pack a punch.”

Eddie leaned in and wiggled his eyebrows, letting out a low, suggestive hum. “So do you,” he said, and even though Steve rolled his eyes again he also smiled. He barely had to tip his chin up to reach Eddie’s lips, and they traded a few kisses in the quiet morning sunlight. Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck, his hands inevitably finding their way into Steve’s hair.

They were both so distracted that they didn’t notice someone walk into the kitchen.

“Morning, brochachos,” Argyle said cheerily, and Steve and Eddie jumped away from each other, red faced and wide eyed. “Oh shit, sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt the love fest!”

“Wh-huh?” Eddie said eloquently.

“It’s—uh,” Steve followed up.

Robin peered around the doorway next. “You two done or are you gonna burn breakfast?”

“It’s not gonna burn, Robs,” Steve frowned, but then said, “wait. Why aren’t you freaking out?”

The flat look Robin gave him made Eddie snort, even if it was kind of about him, too. “You’re kidding, right? I had my suspicions, Steve, but last night confirmed everything. You couldn’t keep your eyes off each other all night, it was ridiculous. And then the whole, ‘can you help me grab something from inside’ thing was the most obvious excuse ever.”

“And you didn’t come back down after that,” Nancy said as she and Jonathan walked in. “Morning, Eddie.”

“Uh. Uh-huh. Good morning. So, hold on, none of you care?” Eddie asked.

“Like I said, kind of already knew. We were just waiting for you to tell us,” Robin said as she poured coffee into two mugs. “I gotta tell Vickie exactly how right I was, be right back. And the french toast is burning, Steve.” Steve swore and jogged over to the stove.

Jonathan pulled a mug out of the cupboard as he spoke next. “I think it’s great you guys are boyfriends. It’s a good fit, y’know?”

Eddie’s heart thumped and he looked at Steve, who turned around from trying to save the first batch of breakfast from incendiary doom. Steve’s cheeks were a little red, and he was smiling shyly. Shrugged a bit, like a question. Beaming at him, Eddie said, “Yeah. Boyfriends. I think it’s great too.”

Dividers by @/saradika and @/cafekitsune

[patchworkgargoyle]

Somehow I tripped and 2.6k words spilled out of me...

Warning for the brief and vague mention of queer used as a slur in the past!

---

"Eddie, you cannot be serious," Gareth snaps, "there's no way we can take on a beholder at the end of this dungeon."

"We're tapped out, man. I don't have any spell slots left, Grant's out of action surges, and we drank the last health potions after those stirge swarms you threw at us." Jeff leaned against his locker with a plaintive look at a grinning Eddie.

"Thanks for those, by the way," Grant said, sulking, and Eddie's grin simply widened.

Whipping out his arms, completely heedless of the crowd of students swirling around them – and the angry glares those that had to duck around him sent his way – Eddie said, "You are ever so welcome! Need I remind you all that this is what you asked for when you said you wanted a challenge?" His friends' collective groans only fueled his schadenfreude. "Besides, you don't know it's a beholder. Could be an illithid. Or a lich."

Gareth shoved Eddie backwards. "You throw a lich at us and I quit."

"Rocks fall, Gareth the Gaudy dies," Eddie sings.

"Gareth the Great."

"Oh, what an ignoble end to such a brave yet irritating adventurer!" This gets Jeff and Grant snickering and they pack up their things. Meanwhile, Eddie swears he can see steam coming from Gareth's ears. If he wasn't so easy to rile up Eddie would bother him less, but he just made it so fun he couldn’t resist.

Jeff, ever the mediator, clapped a hand on Gareth's shoulder. "He's just teasing and you know it. Besides, when you take over for that one-shot next you can get your revenge then."

"True…" Gareth fixed Eddie with a stare that was meant to be intimidating, chin held high and eyes narrowed, but Eddie gave as good as he got with a wicked smirk. It helped that he was a few inches taller.

"Stop measuring your DM dick sizes, guys, I have bass practice to get to," Grant said. He purposefully smacked Eddie with his backpack as he swung it on and broke the nerdy stare-down. Eddie and Gareth both gave each other a final dramatic glare before laughing and leading the way towards the door and sweet, sweet freedom.

Gareth gave a thoughtful hum. "I think I know what I'd use as revenge."

"What's that?" Eddie asked as he trotted ahead to avoid the crowd. Since it was Friday, everyone was rushing to leave, the late spring sun shining through the doors like a beacon. There was a small group ahead clogging traffic and Eddie braced himself for shoving his way through.

"A false hydra," Gareth said with an evil lilt.

Eddie whipped around and began walking backwards, eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't. That's cruel and unusual." Jeff sighed and Gareth's smug expression grew.

Grant pointed behind Eddie. "Uh, dude, watch out–"

"Oh, whoops." Eddie spun again, only to catch his foot on something, hearing someone say whoa! before he stumbled, hands bracing on their shoulders but not soon enough to stabilise Eddie. His momentum had him knocking knees with his unfortunate victim, brought them chest to chest, and then–

Face to face. Lips against lips.

Eddie barely registered that these lips were still somehow soft against his own, if a little chapped, before his brain caught up with everything and he realised he was staring into a pair of pretty, down turned brown eyes, wide with shock. He wasn’t sure if the hallway went silent or if all his senses narrowed down to the pressure against him, the sound of a hitched inhalation, the texture of the shirt beneath Eddie’s hands, and the faint, lingering scent of aftershave. Much, much too late, Eddie recognised with dread exactly who he’d just kissed.

Rearing back, Eddie brought the back of his hand to his mouth, his breath stuck in his chest as Steve Harrington stood rigidly in the middle of the hallway. Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers looked on – what a wild combination that was, these days, with the shadow of Jonathan’s fists still bruising Harrington’s face – with varying expressions of surprise and, interestingly, concern. Jonathan shuffled, as if to get between Steve and Eddie, but Eddie didn’t have the wherewithal to notice.

Because he was surely about to get the living daylights punched out of him. Eddie the Freak, Eddie the Queer as Harrington’s former friends would spit at him, just kissed King fucking Steve in the middle of Hawkins High’s illustrious hallways. Accident or not, he knew this was going to end painfully. He’d surprised himself so badly he didn’t even think to raise his arms, to shield himself, as he kept staring, panicked and frozen, at Harrington’s startled face.

But the punch never came. Harrington blinked, slowly raised a hand as if to touch his lips but let it fall, his eyes locked on Eddie. “Uh,” he said, but didn’t continue.

“Go, man, go go go!” Gareth hissed, and started pushing Eddie away. He let them. As soon as Harrington slipped from his sight, Eddie took in a shaky breath, his feet carrying him away automatically as his mind raced in circles while his friends whispered in anxious tones behind him.

What the hell just happened? How the fuck did he survive that?

…Did he imagine it, or had he felt Harrington kiss him back?

—

Despite his anxious brooding over the weekend, Eddie showed up at school on Monday without incident. He hadn’t been pounced, cornered, chased down or any other verb his mind conjured when he stepped out of his van. He’d even shown up late intentionally, trying to miss whatever plan Harrington might’ve cooked up to get back at Eddie. But nothing happened. He caught a few looks from other students in the halls, but when didn’t he? Classes were uneventful and he thanked fate for the fact that, being a senior, he didn’t have any with Harrington. During lunch he remained unharassed, though the whole table was primed for an attack. Not a single spitball was hocked, nor a single piece of food sent sailing their way.

It was fucking with Eddie more than being jumped would. He hadn’t pegged Harrington as one for mind games, but maybe he was wrong. So when he opened his locker at the end of the day and saw a hastily folded note, the world felt right again, even if it meant he was about to face his bruise-laden destiny. While his friends chatted nearby, he unfolded the note.

picnic table, after school? –S.H.

Sighing with a nod, Eddie shoved the note into his pocket and scrambled to get his shit together. After the briefest internal debate, he turned to the rest of Hellfire. “Gentlemen, I have been summoned for a clandestine meeting.” When he pulled his lunchbox halfway out of his backpack and gave it a brief wiggle, they nodded.

“Need backup?” Jeff asked, but Eddie shook his head.

“Nah, I’ll be fine,” he lied, impressed that he could keep his cool, “I’ll give you a call when I get home though.”

Jeff knocked shoulders with him and smiled. “You better. Be safe, make good choices.” Gareth and Grant snorted, but Eddie bowed.

“As you command!”

They waved goodbye as they went their separate ways, Jeff, Grant, and Gareth safely to the front of the school, and Eddie to certain doom in the forest behind the track field. He instantly regretted splitting the party like this, but if Harrington brought friends he’d rather not let the others get caught up in the fight. 

Past the treeline, Eddie fished out his lunchbox again, hoping to either bribe Harrington into forgetting what had happened or to use it as an improvised weapon if worse came to worst. He rapidly tapped his fingers against it, the metal of his rings clacking on the tin, and resisted the urge to turn back. He wanted this dealt with, though. Eddie fucking hated this sword of Damocles hanging over his head, so he figured that, for once, he’d nut up and face down the danger. Besides, if the rumours were true, Harrington was kind of useless in a fight anyway. Recalling the bruises on his face on Friday, where Jonathan didn’t seem to have any, made Eddie feel like he could have a little bit of a chance. He was scrappy. If Jonathan could take Harrington, so could Eddie. Assuming he was alone.

Reaching the clearing, it turned out, surprisingly, that Eddie’s assumption was right. Harrington sat by himself on top of the picnic table, slightly slouched, sunlight catching his coiffed hair and making it shine golden. His hands hung loosely in his lap, but when Eddie stepped on a twig, the snap loud in the silence of the clearing, they balled up as Harrington’s head whipped up to look at Eddie.

Eddie swallowed, froze, watched as a sigh left Harrington looking less tense than a moment ago. “Uh, hey Munson,” he said, smiling hesitantly.

“What.” That wasn’t what was supposed to happen. That definitely wasn’t part of the script.

“Wh–? I said ‘hey.’”

“Oh.”

They stared at each other, awkwardness descending like a heavy net, keeping Eddie trapped where he stood. Harrington opened his mouth once, twice, but said nothing, wincing at himself and scrubbing a hand down his face. A minute ticked by that felt like an agonising hour, and finally Eddie, valiantly containing the anxious bouncing threatening to escape his body, broke the silence.

“Listen, Harrington, it was a mistake. I tripped over my goddamn feet, y’know, didn’t even mean to. Wouldn’t mean to, like, ever, so y’know, no worries on your part,” Eddie rambled, seeing the way Harrington’s face fell then screwed up in confusion and dismissed it entirely as a trick of the light. “I have no ill intentions towards your virtue or whatever.” Harrington slid off the table in one smooth motion and began to walk towards Eddie with a determined gaze. Eddie backed up, still talking, heart in his throat beating rapidly. “Nope, none at all, so I’m cool if you’re cool with just sweeping this whole accident under the rug, whaddaya say?”

His back hit a tree, and Harrington came to a stop in front of him. He was close, shit, so close he could smell the aftershave that had haunted him all weekend. This was an extremely inappropriate moment for Eddie to remember the stupid little crush he’d had on Harrington when he first graced Hawkins High with his presence, until his rapid ascent into douche-dom, but it was hard to ignore when he was once again face to face with the guy. He was unfairly pretty, with that strong nose and ridiculously square jaw.

And, fuck him, Eddie couldn’t help but glance down at Harrington’s lips to admire the wide cupid’s bow set in a serious line. When his tongue darted out to wet his lips, Eddie flushed and noticed the slight amused upturn to them before he looked back up. Harrington’s eyes crinkled at the edges, something decidedly not violent sparkling in his brown eyes, and Eddie felt very caught out.

“I don’t want to sweep it under the rug. If that’s cool with you.” It may have been phrased as a question, but Eddie didn’t hear a bit of uncertainty.

“What,” Eddie said again, oh so eloquently.

Harrington laughed with a huff and stepped, impossibly, closer. “Just don’t punch me if I’m wrong, man, alright? I’m still kinda healing from the last beating.”

Eddie almost repeated himself a third time, but Harrington’s fingers curled around Eddie’s neck and jaw, sliding into his curls, and Eddie thought he’d died and gone to heaven when Harrington’s lips once again met his with a sure but gentle press. He kept himself still, waiting for the other shoe to drop – which just ended up being Harrington pulling away slightly after a moment.

“I thought, uh.” Harrington finally started looking insecure, his eyes darting between Eddie’s. A slight flush had bloomed across his cheeks, highlighting the moles that Eddie begrudgingly thought were adorable for years. Clearing his throat, Steve swayed back, his hand starting to fall from Eddie’s face. “Fuck, shit, never mind–”

Eddie’s hand caught Steve’s. Held it in place. Ducking forwards and feeling like the bravest man alive, Eddie kissed him again. Intentionally. He heard the small pleased noise Steve made as he kissed back and felt his stomach swoop with a rush.

Holy shit. He was kissing Steve Harrington, again, on purpose, and Steve Harrington was kissing him back. How the fuck had this happened?

Steve pushed Eddie back into the tree, bringing their bodies close, and Eddie gasped, his free hand clutching Steve’s hip to keep him there. They kept kissing, Eddie fighting off baffled, slightly manic laughter by putting the energy into his kisses as he eagerly sought Steve’s lips again and again, feeling a slight smile at his enthusiasm that made their teeth clack. Eddie’s chest buzzed with it, tingled, and by god if this was the only chance he’d get to kiss the prettiest guy in school he’d fucking take it, make the best of it, especially as he felt Steve’s tongue brush deliciously gently over Eddie’s lower lip. He let him in with a sighed half-moan, which Steve echoed in a way that had those tingles light up like fireworks all the way down Eddie’s spine. He tasted like mint. Had he prepared for this?

The thought was enough to force Eddie to break apart from Harrington with a delirious, breathless giggle. “What the fuck,” he whispered, awe-struck, as his head thumped against the trunk of the tree.

“Was that okay?” Harrington asked, sounding concerned, which earned him another bout of giggles.

“‘Was that okay,’ asks the most desirable guy in the school. Jesus christ, okay doesn’t even cover it Harrington.” Eddie was still catching his breath, trying to find his footing again after having his world rocked in the complete opposite way he’d expected.

“Call me Steve, man. We just, y’know, made out. I think you can call me by my first name.”

“Okay, man,” Eddie teased, incredulous, “just bust through every wall I’ve got here in one fell swoop while I’m still processing the fact that you fucking kissed me. By the way: why?”

Steve floundered and looked away. Amazingly, Eddie realised he was shy. He’d made Steve shy, and the world shifted once again. Eddie also realised that he wanted to keep doing anything that’d make Steve blush and smile like that. And he desperately wanted to bite him, just to see what that would lead to.

“After Friday I couldn’t stop thinking about it, the kiss. About you. I knew it was an accident, there’s no way you’d just do that, but the look on your face just after you backed off…” Steve met his gaze again and the heat in his dark, blown pupils sent Eddie’s blood rushing swiftly southward. His thumb caressed Eddie’s pulse point at the soft underside of his jaw and Eddie shivered. “I know how people look when they want me. I wanted to see you look like that again.”

“You sure got it, Steve.”

The admission brought a self-satisfied smirk to Steve’s face. “Sure did.”

After a pause, Steve brought his hands to Eddie’s hips where they sat as a comforting weight. “Can I see it again? Or, more? I mean, I’d like to take you out, on a date, if you’re free.”

His unsure fumbling made something warm glow in Eddie’s chest even as he struggled with the improbable, but somehow still irrefutable fact that Steve wanted to see him again. Uh oh. Oh no. Despite the warnings his logical brain started spewing, Eddie said, “Yeah, Stevie. I’m free.”

The warmth swelled through him like a tsunami when Steve smiled brilliantly, and Eddie knew right then he was well and truly fucked.

Eddie's first kiss being Steve Harrington, but not in the cute uwu post vecna fall in love smoochies kinda way, no.

In the "Eddie tripped over his own giraffe legs like an idiot and tumbled onto Steve Harrington and oh lips, in the MIDDLE of the school hallway." Kind of way.

[akascow]

hey uh not for nothing but uhhHHHH

blue... and red ? alrighty

[myiliterallyhavenolifegoals]

Charles: aw that was aces! right, Edwin?

Edwin: yes it was rather,

*consulting a list of modern slang Niko and Crystal gave him*

Edwin, proudly: poggers :)

[patchworkgargoyle]

So, hi OP, I hope this is okay but I wrote a fic for this amazing art. I swear it fucken possessed me. 😅

Steve pov, post season 4 vol. 2, ~1.9k words and content warnings for some mild but graphic violence and demogorgon consumption. Completely unedited, sorry!

---

Steve forced himself to breathe, measured and sure, much more certain than he felt. He couldn’t help the trembling. His hand, bracing Dustin’s chest to hold him back, shook worse than the first time he’d seen a demogorgon. Because this was so much worse.

—

A few weeks had passed since Hawkins cracked open and unleashed hell. Creatures began to spill out of the fissures, vines slithering into their world while toxic spores rotted away any plant life; Vecna’s influence spread and all Hawkins had to defend it was incompetent military and their ragtag group of barely experienced monster hunters. Finally, after all these years of stopping it, they found themselves in an apocalypse. They didn’t even have time to grieve Eddie, or find ways to help Max who still lay silently sleeping in the heavily guarded hospital. They’d been on their back foot just trying to survive.

Nancy, Jonathan, and Hopper had seen the new monstrosity first when they’d been on patrol. The angle of the sun meant they only saw it in silhouette, casting a shadow over the three of them from high in the air as it soared past. According to Hopper, its wingspan was wide, barely falling short of a small glider, and was obviously the newest thing the Upside Down spawned to harass them.

A few other patrols had caught sight of it, but no one could say what it was. Dustin and Mike’s spying on military comms hadn’t gotten them much more info, though they’d tried to shoot it down and missed. The bizarre thing was it never seemed to attack anyone. The Party had thought it was Vecna’s eyes in the sky and started calling it the Black Dragon (after an annoying amount of arguing). Steve didn’t care what it was called so long as it still kept to itself. He hadn’t seen it himself yet, but he sure as hell didn’t want to.

Halfway into their second month of the end of the world, Steve and Robin had to escort Dustin to the middle school to salvage radio parts from the old AV Club room after Dustin’s Cerebro started crapping out. Mr. Clarke, who’d somehow found himself in their slowly growing band of survivors, said there were parts in there that could help repair it, make the signal stable or whatever, and Hopper delegated that to the three of them, begrudgingly. Steve and Robin didn’t know what Dustin needed, might not get the right parts, so Dustin insisted he came along. The adults trusted the teens to get him there and back only because the school was far enough away from any of the fissures that the track fields were still green, and only a handful of demobats had been seen flapping past. It was supposed to be easy.

Sneaking in had been a cinch. Some demobats were roosting under the eaves, but didn’t even twitch when the trio inched under them, holding their breaths. Robin and Dustin led the way through the school hallways, Steve at the rear with his nail bat in one hand, a gun holstered at his hip at Nancy’s insistence. The silence would’ve been eerie, but every building they scavenged from these days was the same. All Steve thought about it now was at least they could hear something coming when things were quiet.

At the AV Club room, Dustin unlocked the door with a muted snick and hurried inside. Steve and Robin guarded the door, facing each other but looking down opposite sides of the hall. They could hear Dustin rummaging and muttering to himself, and Steve couldn’t help a small, fond smile. He’d grown too much too fast since spring break, gotten quieter and somehow more stubborn, so anything he did that reminded Steve of the kid he used to be was a relief. Robin, catching his expression, shared the smile with a wry twist. Ten minutes passed as they waited for Dustin before he finally emerged, shrugging on his backpack with a serious nod. At that, they made their way back through the school.

Once outside, and far enough from the bats, Robin radioed home base. “We’ve got it, we’re on our way back, over.”

“Copy that,” Jonathan replied a few seconds later, the walkie giving a short beep. “Any trouble? Over.” Dustin smiled proudly, probably pleased with their walkie etiquette, and Steve rolled his eyes, nudging his shoulder.

“Nope, seems to be smooth sailing, we’ll be home in twenty, over-”

A high screech like a serrated knife cut through Robin’s words and echoed over the parking lot. Steve broke out in goosebumps. He heard Jonathan swear through the walkie as Robin dropped it to pull out her gun. Whirling, he brought up his bat and faced the demogorgon.

This was the third he’d seen, now, and it hadn’t gotten easier. Somehow hulking and spindly, the beast, with its grey, moist skin, stalked closer. The petals of its face fluttered out of sync and Steve felt like it was sniffing them out. He stepped in front of Dustin. It must have heard the scuff of his sneakers, because its head jerked up, straight at them.

“Robin,” Steve warned, and she nodded, pistol held just like Nancy showed her. They stared it down. It stepped forward once. Twice. Steve white-knuckled his bat, ignoring the rush of blood in his ears. Its chest heaved. Then, the demogorgon roared. Charged.

Shots rang out, deafening, as Robin unloaded into it. Steve shouted, “Dustin, run!” Hoped he’d listen for once. It’d be on them in seconds. He could smell its rotten breath, count the rows of teeth. Just as Steve drew back the bat, ready to step in and probably get torn to shreds, a huge black shadow swooped low with a leathery wing beat.

The demogorgon’s feet left the pavement as it shrieked, shrill and awful, and the thing that picked it up flew high into the air before folding its wings and plummeting. With a gross crunch the demogorgon collapsed under the thing’s weight, crushed into the pavement with a hollow noise of pain before going still. Then, the thing began to– eat.

Hunched over the demogorgon, it ripped into the rib cage and pulled black-blooded organs out, slurping them down with a noise that made Steve’s guts churn. At least its back was turned. Frozen, Steve could only stare. Taloned feet and animalistic legs bent to meet a long expanse of pale, scarred skin, half hidden by its own folded wings which attached at the too-long arms like a bat. Fingers capped with claws tore further into the demogorgon’s chest and brought the gore to its mouth. Dark veins radiated out from the scarring, and a mass of matted hair hid its face from view. 

Robin now aimed at the new monster. Steve still held his pose, ready to swing. Dustin, though. He gasped.

“Eddie?”

The creature stilled.

“Dustin, what the fuck? That isn’t-” Steve started to hiss, but the thing’s head rose, twisted.

His heart could’ve stopped right there. Red eyes flashed in an all too human, too familiar face. Rounded nose, sharp jawline, full lips coated in monster blood. Dustin took a few steps but Steve stopped him, still staring at the twisted thing that looked like Eddie, but wasn’t. Couldn’t be. It couldn’t be, because he was dead. They’d had to leave his body in the Upside Down while the ground tore itself open, while Lucas had sobbed into Erica’s walkie that Max was hurt. Dustin had raged and begged to bring Eddie with them, but they couldn’t. Steve had said he’d go back, but after the Upside Down invaded their world, there wasn’t any time. The same guilt and self-blame that choked Steve then came screaming back now.

Those red eyes flicked over the three of them, stalling on Dustin. A whimper, like the demo-creatures but lower, raspier, clawed its way out of the thing– Eddie’s throat, eyebrows drawn together in what might’ve been worry, or fear. He hunched and brought his wing up to hide his face and Dustin, voice thick and wobbly, called his name again.

“What– what is this, Steve?” Robin asked. Her hands shook too, but still aimed at Eddie. He warred with himself over whether to tell her to put it away or not.

“I don’t fucking know, Robs, this is…”

At his voice, Eddie fixated on Steve, saw the bat and snarled.

“Put it down, Steve, you’re scaring him!” Steve gave Dustin a skeptical look, but he doubled down. “He’s not attacking! He literally saved us, and hasn’t attacked yet. Put it down. The gun too, Robin. Please.”

He looked back at Eddie, finally met those unnerving eyes. Somehow he still had that same intense gaze that made Steve feel stuck and examined like a bug. A tense moment passed, Eddie still growling lowly. Swallowing past his fear and shame, Steve slowly took one hand off the bat, palm out, and bent to place the bat on the pavement. Robin gave a shaky exhale and, just as slowly, holstered her pistol. The growling stopped.

When Eddie didn’t move, Steve patted Dustin firmly. “Stay here,” he said, and, possessed by either bravery or insanity, he started to walk forward. Eddie turned to face them, hesitantly, looking like he wanted to back up but held his ground, and Steve saw the brutal scars the demobats had left in the softness of Eddie’s stomach. His own ached in sympathy and his guilt threatened to rip him apart again.

Ten deliberate steps, and Steve was in front of Eddie, who gave an unsure chitter that sounded like, “No.” Propped up by his distended arms, he towered over Steve now.

“What happened, Eddie?” he asked quietly.

Eddie’s mouth opened and closed with a flash of sharp teeth, working to form words. “D– d– died, sss– stuck,” he managed, distorted by the same stuttering sounds the demo-creatures made.

“Fuck. I’m so sorry, Eddie, I was going to come back for you–”

Steve was cut off when Eddie shifted, shoving one of his distorted hands at Steve’s chest with another rough, forceful, “No.” It nearly knocked Steve on his ass.

“Come back with us,” Dustin asked, “please, Eddie, we have a base and everything. We’ll keep you safe, maybe we can find a way to turn you back.” But before he finished Eddie was shaking his head, matted curls flying. Dustin kept begging, started to come closer, but Eddie backed away and refused to look back up at Dustin again. Steve was sure Dustin would keep asking, but Eddie’s head snapped up and stared down the road. At the same moment, Steve thought he heard the distinct sound of Hopper’s truck.

Just as it came racing down the street, gunning for the school, Eddie stood to his full height and spread his wings, clipping Steve as they stretched several feet wide, the taught membranes dark with thready veins. Dustin begged again but Eddie just shook his head, eyes clenched shut, and shot into the air so fast that Steve stumbled in the wake of displaced air, sneakers skidding in demogorgon blood before he fell back with a pained grunt.

As fast as he’d appeared, Eddie was gone.

more monster eddie doodles.

[seaquestions]

wanting permission, asking forgiveness. ah. you're so kind to me. (id in alt)

[tragedy-machine]

Cameo week highlights, s2 spoilers edition

Esther was supposed to be a part of s2, under a disguise

There was supposed to be an ep of them going to Japan, "to deliver a body to someone's relatives" (zombie niko??)

there was supposed to be a musical-themed ep

the Cat King was supposed to come back too and he was relevant to the "Edwin was supposed to have his first adult experience in s2" conversation

[beetlebug---1]

Promptober day 18: friendship 💞

[shaylogic]

The Lust Cow

Innocent little cartoony white cow

SAVE YOURSELF FROM HELL, CRYSTAL!

The camera specifically panned this way to keep the lust cow out

There might be something to AroAce Niko actually

[thestardustcreetchure]

Knowing what we know now of what becomes of Niko Sasaki, I firmly believe Litty and Kingham are her feral personal assistants terrorizing everyone else in whichever department of the afterlife bureau she's part of

[patchworkgargoyle]

Fort Munson 🌿

For Lex's Spicy Six Summer Fanworks Challenge, based on the dialogue prompt: "That’s the most elaborate treehouse I’ve ever seen." Thanks for putting all this together @thefreakandthehair! Rating: G or T (for swearing) || CW: none. || Words: ~3.8k On Ao3 Here~

Heat sat stagnant and cloying inside Eddie’s room where he and Steve lay sprawled on the floor. Eddie had said that heat rises, so they’d migrated from the bed to the worn-in carpet, and now starfished there silently. Steve could feel the stickiness of sweat on his forehead. If there were a breeze coming in through the open window it’d be fine, but all that filtered in were the high, raspy sounds of crickets and cicadas.

Could they go to Steve’s, where the AC wasn’t busted for another week until the repair guy could come out to fix it? Yeah. Sure. It was homey at the trailer, comforting. Warm. So fucking warm. He sighed, and swore his own breath was cooler than the air surrounding them. But Steve would rather stay here with Eddie than be home alone. Lately he’d rather hang out with Eddie than do most other things, other than hang out with Robin. 

She’d teased him for it, of course, when Steve told her about his crush on Eddie. Said he’d gotten a crush on a boy that looked like a mop, scrawny and all hair, and being offended on Eddie’s behalf he shoved her off the couch. Well, he’d meant to just push her, but her balance was terrible and down she toppled. After she’d gotten over her surprise, and their swearing and giggling and retaliatory slapping had calmed down, Robin told him, “I’m excited for you, Steve,” with a sappy grin. He’d just shrugged and tried to hide his own bashful smile.

So when Eddie asked yesterday if Steve would want to spend his day off at his place, his expressive, gorgeous brown eyes sparkling, there was no way Steve would turn him down. Even if it was so hot Steve felt he’d start melting into the floor.

“This sucks.”

Steve craned his neck to look at Eddie, who was frowning up at the ceiling. His bangs had gone a little stringy. “Huh?” Steve said.

“This heat, it fucking sucks dude. This isn’t hanging out.” His arm raised to lazily flail between them both then flopped loudly to the floor again. A different kind of warmth sparked up Steve’s arm when their pinkies touched, and Steve concentrated very hard on not flinching or hooking their fingers together. “This is dying. Slowly. Uneventfully. I feel like a slow roasted chicken.”

Humming, Steve said, “Yeah.”

Finally Eddie’s head tilted to the side, facing Steve. An amused smile tugged the corner of his lips down and now Steve had to concentrate on not looking. “Sounds like the heat’s melted your brains, big boy. I can see ‘em leaking out your ears.”

It’s more than just the heat, Steve wanted to say, opened his mouth and nearly let the words escape, but he caught himself with a breathy laugh. “I think you’re right,” he replied instead.

“‘Cause I’m always right.”

Steve just raised a doubtful eyebrow. It climbed higher when Eddie stuck his tongue out.

“Well I’m right about this sucking. C’mon, I’ve got an idea.” Eddie slapped his thighs and bolted upright, rolling to his feet with surprising ease while Steve peeled himself off the carpet with much less gusto and a lot more complaining.

“You’re seriously making us move right now?” he grumbled as he stood. But he heard Eddie groan and before he realised, Steve’s hands shot out to stabilise him as he wobbled.

“Shouldn’t’ve got up so fast,” he said sheepishly.

Still holding Eddie by the shoulders, Steve snorted. “You think?” He held onto Eddie just shy of too long before letting his hands drop. “Alright, you made me get up, this better be worth it.”

“Oh it’s worth it.” Eddie winked, then led them out of the trailer–only pausing to lock up–and instead of heading to one of their vehicles he started down the road towards the dead end.

While the heat out here wasn’t as stale, it almost felt worse, the sun bearing down on them directly. The road behind them shimmered with that faint heat mirage and Steve could feel it through the soles of his sneakers. “Pretty sure this sucks worse, Eddie.”

Eddie spun on his heel and started walking backwards. “Don’t you trust me?” he asked, a coy tip to his chin.

With his life. But Steve wouldn’t say that, either. “I dunno, Munson. You’re leading me into the woods, alone, no witnesses? Kinda suspicious of you.”

“I am offended, Steve, how could you say such a thing to me, of all people?” He clutched his chest and dramatically threw his head back, only to stumble when the asphalt gave way to dirt and sparse grass. Steve jolted to try and catch him, but Eddie recovered quickly, grinning widely. “See, could a suspicious guy do that?”

Steve laughed, a little baffled. “Nah, now you’re just a klutz.”

“At least I can trust you to try and catch me, Stevie.”

The fondness Steve thought he heard in Eddie’ voice would’ve made him blush if the heat hadn’t done that already. They held each other’s gaze, standing close, just a moment in time that stretched out like a plucked guitar string left to ring. Eddie cut it off with a nod to the woods. Steve was helpless, and couldn't do anything but follow.

Grasshoppers lived up to their name, hopping through the brittle, sun bleached grass as they avoided the boys’ careless feet. Steve watched a few cling to Eddie’s bare calves before he shook them off. When they’d gotten a few feet into the treeline, the leaves above sheltered them on their walk. The shade was desperately needed. He felt like he could breathe again, even if it wasn’t all that much cooler, but he still took a moment to stretch his arms up over his head and inhale the greenness of sun-warmed leaves. Steve let his arms fall again with a small, satisfied groan, pulling the hem of his shirt back into place, and saw Eddie staring. “What?”

Eddie swallowed, then shrugged. “Told you it’d be better.”

“I know, I trusted you,” Steve teased and bumped their shoulders together. Though Eddie tried to hide his shy smile behind a lock of hair, Steve still saw it, matched it with his own. There was a certain type of gleaming pride he felt when he managed to get Eddie to smile like that. “Are we going somewhere, though, or are we just on a walk in the woods?”

“We’re goin’ somewhere. Just don’t laugh when we get there.”

“No promises,” Steve said, teasing again, and Eddie half-heartedly shoved him for it.

“Now I don’t know if I wanna show you,” Eddie said with a miffed tone. He started walking again, though, so Steve kept pace.

“Why, is this some kind of secret nerd lair? Superman’s Cave of Loneliness?”

The sheer amount of disbelief and dismay in Eddie’s face when he whirled to face him made Steve howl with laughter. “I’m sorry, ‘Cave of Loneliness!?’ I don’t even read Superman and I know it’s the Fortress of Solitude, man. It’s in the movies!” Eddie squawked.

“How is Fortress of Solitude any different from Cave of Loneliness, huh?” Eddie’s mouth opened and shut once, then again, and Steve knew he’d won. “Yeah, you can’t say shit, Eddie, you know I’m right.”

Eddie glared so venomously that Steve almost missed the charmed smile he was poorly fighting off. “Fuck you, Harrington,” he said, though his lips pursed trying to keep from laughing.

“You wish.” Steve winked, then started walking in the direction Eddie had been leading them in. When Eddie lagged behind, face frozen in shock, Steve fixed him with an expectant look until the lights came back on behind Eddie’s eyes and he scrambled forward.

The trees grew taller, wider, and more gnarled the further they walked, and the shade grew deeper. Sunshine flecked the forest floor, showing the way between the trunks and glancing off still-green foliage untouched by the summer heat. It was beautiful, but Steve kept getting distracted by the way the light caught in Eddie’s hair; the dappling made the strands of dark brown flash with vibrant reds and richer browns, and danced over his cheekbones like golden kisses. Steve wanted to replace them with his own, his chest aching sweetly with desire, but he wasn’t brave enough yet.

He could still wish for it, though. Eddie’s skin would probably feel soft under Steve’s lips. He’d take his time, too, placing one languid, deliberate kiss after the other, tracing the path the sun had left.

The bubble of his daydream popped when Eddie came to a halt in front of a massive old oak and spread his arms upwards with a, “Ta-dah!” Following his wiggling fingers, Steve saw the structure sitting snugly in the tree’s sturdy, sprawling branches.

A treehouse. The foundation of it seemed to be built from old railroad ties, bolted into the trunk, while the rest of it looked a little newer. Big, childishly menacing eyes were painted around the windows, and below those and slashed across the door was a mouth full of triangle-shaped teeth; in the middle of the mouth, on the door, a red tongue lolled out. The rest of the rounded walls looked like they’d been black once, but had now faded away to a mottled, chipped grey. A fake chimney sprouted from the roof, which was shaped like a cone and covered with mismatched shingles. While the base still seemed sturdy, the house itself was starting to look a little rickety.

“What do you think?”

“That’s the most elaborate treehouse I’ve ever seen.” That wasn’t even a lie. Steve had said it genuinely, and with a fair bit of surprise. He would’ve been over the moon if he’d seen this as a kid.

Eddie beamed at the praise. “Ain’t it? Wayne and I built it ourselves. Well, we had a bit of help from one of his buddies from the plant who does carpentry on the side, but still. Took a whole summer to build too.” He walked to the trunk and that’s when Steve spotted the rusty ladder rungs drilled into the tree. His ringed hand closed around a rung with a clicking sound.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Eddie,” Steve warned.

Rolling his eyes so hard his whole head followed, Eddie said, “Live a little, Stevie!” Hoisting himself up, Eddie began to scale the ladder easily, his hands and feet finding each placement like it was habitual. It probably was. Steve watched him climb the ten-ish feet up–and absolutely appreciated the view–until Eddie landed on the narrow space between the edge of the foundation and the door and pushed the door open on its squeaky hinges. “See, nothing to worry about. Hurry up, you’re missing the party!” he shouted over the edge before ducking into the treehouse.

Huffing, Steve shook his head and followed Eddie up at a much more cautious pace. Not a single rung was loose, thankfully. At the top, he clambered onto the foundation and found the house was a little smaller than it seemed from the ground, but Eddie had wedged himself inside against the left side, still smiling, legs folded in so that Steve could crouch his way inside.

“This is, uh, a tight fit,” he grunted, smacking the back of his head on the doorway.

“Be careful,” Eddie said, and Steve glared without any heat.

“Bit late for that.”

Some shuffling, arguing, and contorted limbs later, and Steve was settled inside the treehouse. His and Eddie’s legs were practically intertwined as they sat across from each other, but it wasn’t too uncomfortable; the curve of the rounded walls was pretty nice to rest against, actually.

“This is great,” he said as he inspected the place. Cobwebs hung everywhere, and he was sure a racoon had slept in the leaves and fur piled next to him. There was a dusty red plastic kid’s chair tucked under a piece of plywood jutting from the wall that must’ve been a desk, but now held an abandoned bird’s nest. The walls were covered in crayon drawings: stick figures with swords and guns acting out grand battles against monsters, a big castle that had a flag with an ‘M’ on it, a red dragon shooting laser beams instead of fire from its mouth. Steve nodded at the dragon with his chin. “That’s different.”

Eddie snorted. “Yeah, that and the dudes with guns started when my dad let me watch Wizards way too young.” At Steve’s quizzical expression, he continued, “Animated movie from ‘77. I dunno, you might like it. It’s not your typical fantasy stuff.”

“I like fantasy sometimes, just not when Dustin keeps ragging on me to watch or read or play it all the damn time.”

“Fair,” Eddie laughed.

“Maybe we could watch it sometime, together?”

He looked pleasantly surprised. “You’d wanna watch a weird fantasy movie with me?” Steve shrugged. “Alright man, it’s a date. Just tell me when and where and I’ll procure the goods.”

Something fluttered in Steve’s belly when Eddie said ‘it’s a date,’ even though he hadn’t meant it like that. Still, that genuine little smile that lingered on Eddie's face gave him just the tiniest glint of unwanted hope.

“When did you and your uncle build this?” he asked to distract himself from the small riot happening inside himself.

“When I was eleven. I’d been living with Wayne for about a year, and he wanted to do something for me to celebrate even though I’d spent most of that year being a little shit. His friend Dale had gotten ahold of the wood for free, and Wayne had known about this old treehouse foundation,” Eddie knocked on the floor, “for a while. So during the summer he took some time off from work and we built it with Dale’s help in a week. Definitely stabbed my foot with a nail once.”

Steve looked at the construction with a new appreciation, and also a little bit of old, selfish longing. But he pushed that down. “That sounds nice.”

“You ever have a treehouse built around Harrington Manor?”

“Nah.” Steve wrapped his arms around his knees and rested his chin where they crossed. “I tried to convince my dad once when I was little. He even bought the stuff for it. Mom told him it’d be an eyesore in the yard, though, and I was too young to take it all into the woods and build it by myself. It just sat around until my dad got rid of it.”

Eddie hummed, a bitter twist to his mouth. It was a look he always got on the rare times Steve talked about his parents. “Wouldn’t it be kinda funny if that treehouse stuff you dad got rid of was the wood Dale found? This shit was all pre-cut and everything, I think.”

Chuckling a bit, Steve said, “Yeah, maybe.”

“I choose to believe it, and therefore I decree it to be True.” Head held high, Eddie smacked his fist into the floor like a gavel. Steve didn’t bother hiding the grin that crept up on him. “Twas yours once, King Steve, then passed on to become Fort Munson so that you may in the future visit the bounty you bestowed upon the Kingdom of Munson as a sign of peace and goodwill.”

“I would’ve thought this’d be Castle Munson.”

“Nope, that’s the trailer, Steve. Get it right.”

Steve laughed hard enough to knock his head against the wall. Eddie was too good at that, making Steve’s gloomy moments brighter with his nerdy antics, and while Steve figured it was the crush making everything Eddie did that much more, he hoped it wouldn’t fade. Even if it also made his chest hurt.

“Would’ve been nice if we’d built it together, as kids. If we’d been friends then, y’know?” He sighed and turned away from Eddie, not that it was easy to hide in the tight space they’d jammed themselves into. “Maybe I’d–maybe things would’ve turned out differently.”

A clean white Reebok knocked into Steve’s dirty Nike. A scolding. “ Stop beating yourself up over there or I’m gonna start doing it for you. I don’t want different, Stevie. Don’t want you any different.”

Steve hid cheek against his arms when he felt it grow red, hoped Eddie wouldn’t notice it travelling up to the tip of his ear. “I don’t think beating me up for beating myself up is helpful,” he huffed.

“Well I’m gonna. Don’t test me. I’ll use percussive maintenance on your ass.”

Steve frowned, but not at the nonsense words that came out of Eddie’s mouth. “What’s that?” he asked.

“What, percussive maintenance? It’s like when you hit the TV to make the signal come through, or–oh. Uh.”

There was a drawing next to Steve’s head, a stick figure knight kneeling and kissing the hand of another stick figure that wore a crown. He traced a curious finger over the crown and the short hair of the drawing, the yellow and black crayon still waxy after a decade of weathering. “Aren’t princesses supposed to have long hair or something?”

Eddie’s feet shuffled away from Steve’s. His heart plummeted in his chest, a drop from a rollercoaster, and he watched Eddie’s face turn inscrutable, his eyes fixed downward. Shit. What had he done wrong? The humourless laugh that followed made Steve feel even worse.

“Eddie, I’m sorry, I–”

“Sure, when you’re a kid princesses have long hair,” Eddie interrupted. His hands were locked together, almost white-knuckle tight, twitching up and down with a nervous tick Steve knew well, and a muscle jumped in his jaw. It looked like he was fighting something, whether to say something or not. All Steve wanted to do was reach out, pry his hands apart and take them into his own, but he wasn’t sure if that would even be welcome now or not.

“You don’t have to tell me, whatever it is. I put my foot in my mouth all the time, man, you can just tell me to fuck off.”

“No, I. I–I gotta. Robin said I should just, just do it, you know? Just gimmie a second.”

Steve frowned, concerned, but kept quiet, even as Eddie ran his now shaking hands through his hair. A curl got caught in one of his rings and Eddie cursed, but Steve darted forward to gently untangle it before Eddie just ripped it out. He tucked the soft strand back amongst the rest with care and met Eddie’s dark, wide, longing eyes.

Eddie groaned and hid his face in his hands. “See, Steve, you go and do shit like that and sometimes I think I can do this, but. Fuck.”

Heart hammering in his chest, Steve asked, urged, “What, Eddie?”

“That’s a prince, Steve.” The words came out as a shaky whisper and hung in the small space between them, caught in the air like dust motes.

It took Steve much less time to connect the dots this time than the last time someone came out to him. “So… you’re gay?”

A shuddering sigh escaped Eddie’s chest and his shoulders slumped. He still didn’t look up. “Yeah. I mean, I’ve had a crush on girls once or twice, but. Mostly just guys.”

Steve didn’t know it was possible to feel like this, this jumble of calm and relief and so hopeful and happy he could dance or shout or shake something. Fireworks over a still lake. He balled his fists just to keep from grabbing Eddie and yanking him closer.

“That’s cool. Good, actually.”

Eddie snorted and started to lift his head. “‘Good?’ What do you mean, good?”

While Eddie spoke, Steve quickly shuffled to his knees–staying hunched over so he didn’t bump his head again–and leaned into Eddie’s space a fraction more, hands braced by Eddie’s hips to keep from flopping into his lap. Eddie stared up at him, awed, slack-jawed, and Steve could feel his warm breath ghost across his cheeks, could see the way the summer had intensified the faint freckles that dusted the bridge of Eddie’s nose. They stood out more as the blush in his cheeks darkened.

“I like both,” Steve shared quietly, earnestly. “I like you, Eddie.”

“You… you like me?”

Steve grinned, wide and goofy but he couldn’t care less. “Yeah. I like you a lot.”

“Holy shit. Holy shit–”

“Eddie,” Steve laughed and cupped his warm, scarred cheek in his palm. He’d meant to pull Eddie in for a kiss, to finally make all those daydreams come true, but instead Eddie’s hand wrapped around his. Gently, Eddie brought it away from his face, his grasp sliding down to the tips of Steve’s fingers as he arched Steve’s hand. Then he brought it to his lips, gaze set meaningfully on Steve’s. Pressed his lips to the back of Steve’s hand in a kiss so reverent it had goosebumps breaking out over Steve’s skin, making his breath catch around the sudden lump in his throat.

“I like you a lot too, Steve,” Eddie said, still quiet, as if speaking any louder would burst the fragile and pearlescent bubble of joy around their puzzle-pieced bodies. Steve touched his forehead to Eddie’s with a watery laugh. He couldn’t help it, pulled there by a tug on his heartstrings, and his grin grew almost painful when Eddie nuzzled their noses together.

All it took was the slightest movement. Neither boy could tell who did it first; both of them met in the middle. Steve felt Eddie’s bottom lip press between his, cradled it there softly, pouring every bit of yearning and desire he’d been feeling for months into this one simple touch. When they parted with that delicate sound of a broken kiss, Steve’s eyes fluttered open to see Eddie’s still closed. A slow, satisfied smile grew, making those dimples Steve loved so much appear in Eddie’s cheeks.

And Eddie giggled. Steve hadn’t ever heard him giggle before and it made him feel like a shaken up can of soda. Quickly he ducked in and kissed him again, and again, desperate to release the pressure and hoping to coax more of that laugh from Eddie.

They kissed and laughed and held each other in the treehouse until they lost track of time, until their lips were redder than their faces and their stubble had rubbed a few spots just a little raw. When they finally came up for air, the sun was lower in the sky, painting the forest outside the open door in golden hour hues.

“I guess there’s more than peace between our kingdoms,” Eddie said, and Steve snorted into his shoulder.

“Good thing I trusted you, then.”

Eddie wound his arms around Steve and held him close enough that Steve could hear his heartbeat through the soft fabric of his old band tee. In the midst of their kissing he’d ended up sprawled between Eddie’s knees, and they’d both sunk down onto the cramped, dusty floor.

“Real good thing, Stevie.”

Tag List Lovelies: @steves-strapcollection @scarcrossdlvrs @inairbinad

[edwinisms]

gonna be real as much as i respect the intentions behind autistic edwin hcs (as a person on the spectrum) i pretty strongly lean towards steve yockey’s own statement on the matter, ie; he’s not– most traits people have been interpreting as symptoms are easily explained by his strict, cold upbringing and childhood environment, his repression and fear and living trauma, and well over half a century spent without any human interaction whatsoever, all prior to reaching an age where he could even begin to develop adult social skills and emotional maturity. if anything he’s hyper-aware of social cues due to both having needed to try to read people through edwardian formality on a daily basis, and in order to be keenly aware of threats to his wellbeing. when he’s bitchy, it’s entirely on purpose, not unintentional brutal honesty or out of misreading a room/situation. he certainly has a strong interest in studying the supernatural and occult, but considering he is a supernatural phenomenon, constantly being chasing or being chased by beings of the supernatural– that seems a bit broad to have to be a special interest, and the excess seems more like the product of anxiety, as he’s constantly worrying about what could go wrong and trying to take control by knowing everything he possibly can that might save him, save charles, or solve a case. tldr: not asd, just traumatized and riddled with (mostly related) anxiety.

now niko on the other hand.

[shinehalley]

I'm a very simple person, I see two girls being incredubly codependent and protective of each other in a kind of cute, kind of tragic, kind of "I wold kill and die for you" way and I just can't help but think they should kiss

[twopercentboy]

we need to deeply study the whole iron making ghosts solid for a tick, like what does that entail? is it like they have a body again for split second? do they become Solid and have like mass to themselves that can be felt by humans (crystal & niko mainly)? Like would a hug from them when their solid from iron actually Feel like a hug? or any physical contact from them actually. And how does the pain work? is it based on how much iron they're touching? how diluted it is? like does an alloy with iron also hurt them? or is the pain the same no matter how much is touching them? I need answers.

[bookholichany]

So, Monty and Niko introduced Edwin to colourful sticky notes and glitter pens, right? RIGHT? RIIIIIGHT?

[deadshowsagency]

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